


Testing Cycle

by gatekat



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Kink Meme, M/M, PWP, PnP sex, Sticky Sex, Tactile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>G1 Jazz/Prowl.<br/>Prowl has a valve he doesn't talk about.  Jazz has never seen one.  No big deal until the valve cycles onto high to run its periodic function test and takes the option of ignoring the thing off Prowl's to-do list.  Written for a tfanonkink request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Testing Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the [inspirations page](http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

Prowl shifted, at first unaware of the movement and its cause. Jazz's latest report on Decepticon activity was important, and he enjoyed watching his lover no matter what Jazz was doing. He loved the way Jazz looked at him too, no matter the setting. It warmed his circuits in the most delightful way. Jazz, and the promise of those hands and the incredible pleasure of _sharing_ with him, was one of the few things that could take Prowl's processors off his duties and lure him from his office without protest. It always felt so good to plug into Jazz, open himself and feel his lover open to him so pleasure for one was pleasure for both. It was everything Prowl believed love meant.

It wasn't until Ratchet stared at him for a full half-klik that Prowl realized he was twitching and squirming. He forced himself to still and shot Jazz a look that pleaded for the mech's attentions when the meeting was over, even if it was only for a few kliks for a quick overload. He _needed_ it.

He simply didn't think to wonder why when Jazz gave him a grin and look that promised the bliss to cool the fire for a time. Jazz was good at riling him up without seeming to try. Prowl knew it, knew that one of Jazz's great joys was to get him to initiate their lovemaking without seeming to have teased the mech to the edge of insanity.

Awareness of the surroundings faded as Prime called the meeting to a close with a knowing and amused look at the relatively new couple when he dismissed everyone. All concerns for decorum vanished with the click of the door lock behind the Prime and Jazz's sweetly desiring kiss. Not a word passed between them as Prowl drew his lover into his lap, his field flaring sharp and bright between them. He pushed it further, flooding Jazz's circuits with his desire and the first tingling of pleasure.

Kisses, knowing hands that were still learning caressed and fanned the heat until Prowl shuddered with a needy keen as his primary interface port spiraled open.

"So hot for me," Jazz whispered with his own shiver, his awe at Prowl's desire for him and only him flaring across his field to wrap Prowl in how special he made Jazz feel. The sentiment and its pleasure flared back, matched and amplified as Jazz ghosted a finger around Prowl's primary interface port.

"Only you," Prowl moaned and shivered, his mouth slightly open as the anticipation of pleasure coursed through him. "Please...."

"You beg so nicely," Jazz smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, soft and slowly, as he teased Prowl's cable out. Playing his fingers around the plug that brought him so much pleasure until Prowl was shaking uncontrollably in need. White hands roamed Jazz's plating in silent pleas that the vocalizer could no longer manage. With a shudder and deep moan Jazz clicked the plug into his port and reveled for a blissful moment in the _desire_ his lover had for him.

When Prowl sent the first burst of data-rich energy Jazz's entire frame stiffened with a startled cry of ecstasy at the raw intensity. He scrambled to plug into Prowl, to share and experience the interface fully. It hadn't been since their first time that Prowl had been so intense.

Jazz loved it.

He sent a pulse back, his field meshing with Prowl's in the shared desire. It felt _so_ good. Not just the pleasure, but in knowing that _he_ was the one who had earned Prowl's trust enough to be invited into this intimacy. Not just once, but often. He hadn't even hesitated when Prowl asked him to be exclusive, unless a mission or survival demanded otherwise.

Energy pulsed fast and sweet between the lovers, quickly building the charge and internal heat until Prowl shuddered and stiffened with a keen of relief and release. Against him Jazz moaned and shuddered, easily losing himself in the crackle and random flow of energy as the overload charge jumped across circuits and whited out his vision.

"Thank you," Prowl whispered, his voice thick with static. He held his lover, content to be still for a few moments and simply enjoy the afterglow and calmness it brought his processors.

"Love you, babe," Jazz murmured and leaned in for a soft kiss. "Love that you let me share with you."

Prowl gave him a warm smile and snuck another soft kiss, his field expressing how calm and happy he was. "Thank you for earning my trust." He rested his forehelm against Jazz's in an intimate gesture that pre-dated kissing by generations. "Thank you for wanting me more than once."

"Always," Jazz hummed his pleasure and contentment.

* * *

Prowl shuddered as he sat at his desk, grateful that he could lock his door against almost all comers. He'd lost track of time again. It had been six hundred vorns and the damned thing was cycling on to make sure it still worked. He _hated_ that he had it. He hated how one-sided the pleasure was. He hated that it couldn't be removed without rewiring his entire cortex. Hated everything it represented.

He hated that it had such control over him.

With a growl he forced himself to ignore the ever-more insistent demands to touch between his legs. He'd give in eventually. He knew this. He wasn't resisting forever. He was simply determined that it would be on his terms.

With as much dignity as he could manage Prowl changed the schedules, taking himself out for a full orn; almost fourteen local days. It was humiliating to do so. Even worse to do so with no notice. Yet the only response was Ratchet adding a medical tag to Prowl's time off.

Prowl really wished he hadn't. There were advantages to being viewed as a completely work-centric mech. When he made a work change, it was not questioned. He knew Ratchet was only trying to help him out. Yet the medical tag would lead to more questions than if it hadn't been there.

He stood and cringed in the privacy of his office at the sensation of lubricant rushing down his leg. There was no way he could walk to his quarters looking like this. With a low grumble of his engine he double-checked the lock on his door, pulled a cloth from subspace and opened his valve interface hatch. Slick fluid rushed out, coating both his inner legs and the floor where he stood before stopping.

It was all Prowl could do to force himself to wipe up the mess and not simply drive his fingers into his valve as testing protocols and arousal demanded. His ventilations already rapid, his frame shivering with need, he managed to make himself presentable and stuff a clean cloth inside the mouth of his valve to catch the fresh lubricant before it managed to slip out to where someone could see it.

A final check on his appearance and Prowl slipped from his office with a quiet prayer that he didn't meet Hound or any of Blaster's animal-cassettes. Ramhorn and Steeljaw had the best sense of smell, but all five of the quadrupeds were more than capable of picking up the scent and asking very uncomfortable questions. Or the twins, who knew him well enough to realize _something_ was wrong, even if they didn't have a clue as to what.

Half way to his quarters and Prowl's doorwings were quivering just enough to earn a second hard look from Bumblebee in passing, though the friendly minibot was thankfully quiet and allowed Prowl to continue unquestioned and unmolested.

At his door, Prowl could no longer keep down the thready keen of desperation at his frame's barrage of demands. He trembled as he palmed the pad and stumbled inside, the door locking the moment it slid shut behind him. He didn't even try to stop himself from dropping to his knees and spreading them. His panel snapped open allowing the cloth to slide out, so soaked with lubricant that there was almost no friction between the fibers and the silica-dense metalmesh of the valve's lining.

It was all the stimulation his hyper-sensitive valve needed to drop him the rest of the way forward, his frame thrashing amongst the keening screams of an overload far too long denied.

* * *

"Hay Jazz, is Prowl okay?" Bumblebee asked his commander casually in the rec room as he passed the table where Jazz was chatting with Blaster and Sideswipe about the next party.

"He was after the officer's meeting," Jazz cocked his helm, opening the memory file and checking for any tiny signs he might have missed. Other than Prowl being unusually wound up, he couldn't pick out anything different about his lover or the interface.

"Okay," Bumblebee shifted under Jazz's intense gaze. "I just saw him headed towards the officer's quarters. He was moving kinda funny, for him. Twitchy. And no datapads or anything."

::Prowl?:: Jazz focused on the comm, then on pushing down the panic when it went unanswered. He pinged Teletraan 1 for Prowl's location as he stood. "Thanks Bee," he said before making a quick departure. His half-finished energon forgotten on the table was quickly claimed by Sideswipe, who lost it to Blaster.

::Prowl, answer me,:: Jazz upped the priority of the comm, then pinged it on Prowl's private code. All went unanswered.

He skidded to a stop in front of Prowl's door and palmed it, almost bouncing off the door when it didn't open as expected. "What the?" he scowled and tried Prowl's private comm code again as he tapped in the access code Prowl had given him that was supposed to override any lock the private mech had activated. Again the door refused to budge.

His spark flaring with alarm when he heard a scream inside he snaked a jack from his wrist and hacked the door in a matter of nanokliks. Its security was nothing compared to Prowl's office door, never mind the Decepticon holdings that his job took him to far too often. He had Ironhide, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Prime and Ratchet's comms queued up, ready for anything he found inside that could cause his lover to scream.

One step inside and he froze, all thought of calling for help stripped from his processors along with everything else.

Absently he thought this must be what a mild glitch felt like, but most of his attention was focused forward on his optic feed. His lover, his quiet lover, had screamed in passion as a self-induced overload took him.

It was that vision, the way Prowl was sprawled on the berth in such a compromising position, that finally got Jazz to take the step forward so the door closed and locked behind him. He couldn't even form the words for what he was seeing. His lover was in a soft reboot cycle. His legs were spread wide, his pedes tucked under his aft, sort of. He'd probably been sitting on them when the overload hit and he fell backwards.

There was liquid spread all over the berth, Prowl's legs and hands. It looked like a thin, almost transparent oil of some kind, but it wasn't anything Jazz had seen before. He took a cautious step forward, Ratchet's comm still proponent in his processors as he noticed Prowl's nightstick on the berth, covered in the same oil that was oozing out between Prowl's legs.

The room was dense with the ozone and heat of repeated overloads and less familiar smells, but it all meant one thing to Jazz. His lover had been desperate for attention and done it himself.

The stubborn mech.

"Prowler?" Jazz kept his voice low and soft when Prowl had finished booting. He didn't want to startle his lover more than he had to just by being there.

The reaction on the berth was predictable. Prowl scrambled to something resembling a ready posture. With his coordination limited and processors only half on it was more of an upright sprawl on all fours as he tried to focus his optics.

"It's Jazz, love," he identified himself and took another step forward. "You okay?"

Widely dilated and white-bright optics focused with difficulty, but Prowl's frame relaxed a fraction with recognition even before his visual feed straightened itself out. Suddenly Prowl started to tremble. His doorwings flattened down so far it looked painful and he pulled away. "No," he managed to choke out, shaking harder in both need and shame.

"Hey, no shame because of me," Jazz took the two more steps to enter field range and almost rocked back at the rawness and intensity of _need_ in Prowl's field. "Whatever you need, I'm here for you." He watched as horror warred with desperation across Prowl's normally set features before they settled on resignation and a pleading hope.

Prowl reached out and grabbed his lover's shoulder armor in a half blind move. Trust rushed through his field for a brief moment before the blinding desperation of his _need_ took over. 

Jazz smoothly moved with the tug, climbing on the berth and over Prowl. He wasn't sure what to do though, when Prowl's ports remained sealed. Then Prowl's hips rolled up against his in a frantic bid for his valve to be filled.

"Port, lover," Jazz opened his own interface cover.

"No," Prowl managed to hiss before his mouth was claimed by a kiss.

"Data, babe. Let me know what you need," Jazz murmured, his tone firm. "I'll do anything, just need to know what."

It took too long, but the intention finally penetrated Prowl's processors and he slid the cover open. Firewalls dropped the moment Jazz plugged in, dropping Jazz into the deep end of his lover's state and how distressed it made Prowl to be so out of control of his own frame. This deep in and Jazz finally understood entirely too well where Prowl's insatiable need for control came from.

~Shu, babe,~ Jazz cooed across the hardline as he absorbed what his lover needed from the signals Prowl's frame was bombarding the Praxian with. ~I'll take care of you.~

~But...~

~I _will_ take care of you,~ Jazz insisted more forcefully, muting Prowl's objections for the moment. He kissed Prowl with all the passion in his spark as he eased his lover back. When the kiss broke Prowl's fans had kicked up a notch and the arousal in his field had begun to ease from desperation to desire. It was heavily tinged with guilt, but it was still desire.

Spooling out more of his cable Jazz kissed and caressed his way down Prowl's frame. As he neared Prowl's hips he was able to sort out the new scents. The liquid was a lubricant, heated by Prowl's burning frame and altered by the intense charge of an overload. That scent was now branded in Jazz's cortex as a scent of arousal, desire, pleasure. A scent he wanted to enjoy often.

"Jazz!" Prowl shuddered, keening in desperation at having his lover's hands so close and not touching. He hated the desperation, that he was now demanding to be pleasured and offering nothing in return. Jazz deserved better. Prowl wanted to be better. He just couldn't be in this moment.

Then all thought was gone as Jazz's lip plates pressed against his valve entrance and that glossa that Prowl so loved to tangle with in a kiss began exploring the pliant, silica-rich metal mesh of the valve, finding and teasing every sensor node bundle in reach. The lap and caress sent jolts of sensation through Prowl's neural net, drawing a sharp, keening cry of encouragement from him.

* * *

Jazz purred as he looked up at his lover's catatonic frame from between the Praxian's spread legs. He licked what he could of the lubricant from his face, then reached into subspace for a rag to wipe the rest off. That had been amazing to watch, feel, to _do_. He'd heard about retro arrays, but he'd never seen one, much less gotten the chance to touch and explore.

How could they have been intimate for more than two centuries and never had _this_ come up? It was an unsettling question, as was what the guilt was from. Someone had made Prowl believe this pleasure was wrong somehow, and Jazz's expression hardened for a moment as he became determined to make that person _pay_. But first, clean up everything. Prowl would appreciate booting up in a warm, clean berth and having his plating clean. No matter why he was messy, Prowl always relaxed just that little bit more when he was clean and so was his environment.

Despite the charge crackling through his circuits, Jazz pushed aside the thought of asking for a quickie from someone off duty. He didn't dare not be here when Prowl came to. He focused on cleaning up, but his thoughts were once more distracted when he picked up the shock baton Prowl still had from his Enforcer orns. It was obvious that all three parts had been inserted into the valve, and Jazz shuddered when he realized it had been turned on. The lowest setting, and random ... he honestly wasn't sure he wanted to know if it was because it felt good, or because Prowl was trying to hurt himself through the valve he seemed to hate.

No, Prowl wouldn't hurt himself. Not like this. If he were out to destroy the valve, he'd have planned it out as flawlessly as he planned anything else and the retro away would be long gone.

A ping from a secondary processor drew Jazz's attention inward as he settled against Prowl's side and relaxed. The file was larger than he'd expected, with a reference list of vids and documents three times longer than it was. There was a lot more on retro arrays than such a rare mod should have.

"So they used to be standard, mmm?" Jazz murmured to his recharging lover, lightly stroking the armor that protected a spark worth more to him than his own. "You must be a lot older than your records state to have one. It was Ironhide's generation that had them last. But why only give you half a set?"

"I was a custom order," Prowl whispered, pressing into Jazz's presence. The guilt was thick in his field now, without the distraction of need. "My records are correct. I'm not much older than you."

"What happened to make you hate it?" Jazz asked gently, snuggling close and pressing his feelings for Prowl through his field, trying to counter the guilt.

"Don't want to talk about it," Prowl muttered, his field speaking of what he couldn't. "All that effort, and I'm the only one who enjoyed it."

A low click of reprimand, yet almost a chuckle, escaped Jazz as he tipped Prowl's face for a kiss. "Oh, babe, I get you were distracted and all, but I was really enjoying that. And now that I have a clue what I'm doing, I want to do it again when you're coherent enough to realize how much fun I was having."

"But you didn't overload once!" Prowl couldn't wrap his processors around the concept Jazz was proposing. He quivered as he felt a glitch-lockup threatening.

"Sometimes, that's just fine," Jazz purred, kissing him again. Then he caught the way Prowl's optics were losing focus and gave his lover a sharp tap on the center of the chevron, inducing a momentary complete sensory disorientation. He hated doing it, but it always stopped a logic glitch from taking hold, so it was by far the lesser of two pains. "Okay, lover," he got Prowl's attention before he could begin thinking again. "I _enjoyed_ that. There are toys and such that can make it more mutual."

"But you don't have a retro array," Prowl stared at him.

"I love you," Jazz leaned in for a tender kiss. "You know I love to explore, try new things. Maybe you've had lovers that didn't appreciate _all_ of you. I do. I want to enjoy it all. Please, let me explore just how much fun a valve can be for _us_."

"I...." Prowl fell silent for a long, long moment. Then he nodded slowly, somewhat reluctant but unable to deny what he felt in Jazz's field or the truth of the words. "All right. But _only_ as long as you're enjoying it."

"Deal," Jazz beamed and kissed him again. "Now, how about some energon and something more comfortable for you?"

Prowl managed a small, shaky smile. "Deal."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: <http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=11964928#t11964928>
> 
> There have been some amazing culture clash fics around lately and it's got the bunnies biting. Warning, long burble is long!
> 
> Background:
> 
> Some mechs have sticky-style, 'retro' arrays with either cords, valves or both. Both used to be the norm, but some have only one or the other. It's become very outdated and has been largely phased out in favour of plug and play interface - not fussed on the background of that part, say it's an unconscious desire to move away from memories of Quintesson 'consumer goods' or something. *shrug*
> 
> Prowl has a retro array. He's a valve-only model but prefers plug and play interface - he's always seen it as being one-sided and selfish to expect a partner without a cord/valve to please another's. (Maybe he's had a couple of inconsiderate pre-War bad partners? Who knows. That's not important.) Either way, he's as stubborn about this as he is anything else, and doesn't want to get into 'facing where he'd feel guilty for his partner doing all the work. Plug and play/spark-merging is all about equality and feeling another's pleasure, retro 'facing isn't. He and Jazz are in a committed relationship, though they've not been together all that long, and he's never told Jazz that he's got a retro array.
> 
> The only problem with this relatively stable state of affairs comes (hah!) when Prowl's valve starts acting up. I'm not looking for heat fic as such; once in a blue moon, in Cybertronian terms rather than humans, retro systems will cycle on to test they're still in full working order, and Prowl has to deal with the fallout. Because he doesn't want to 'face anyone and doesn't want anyone to think less of the cool, calm, sensible officer who already gets poked fun of for having a stick up his aft, he's always handled it himself, so to speak. Or he did, until this one time Jazz interrupts.
> 
> Would love to see:
> 
> \- Prowl being unable to sit still the longer he tries to put off taking care of the problem, but doing his damndest to be sensible about it for as long as he can - rearranging schedules slightly so he can take some time off, estimating how long he'll be out of commission for, rescheduling appointments...  
> \- Literally unable to sit still. Like, squirming in his seat, realise what he's doing and trying to hold still, then squirming again. (If he does that in an officer's meeting and Ratchet gives him the hairy eyeball, I shall squee.)  
> \- Prowl putting himself in voluntary lockdown - 'taking time off' - in his quarters without telling anyone why and barely making it through the door before he's on his knees with his fingers in his valve. Desperate, thrashing, knee-trembling overloads follow, and he's still running hot.  
> \- Prowl going from desperate and trying to stay focussed outside, to completely nonverbal and caught up in what he's doing in his quarters.  
> \- Jazz getting worried when Prowl doesn't answer his comm and checking up on him. Prowl doesn't keep toys on hand, not wanting to acknowledge that he has a valve at all, but Jazz is so very helpful with his extra two hands and eager mouth and all.
> 
> Keyboardmash-inducers:  
> \- Jazz being absolutely amazed and fascinated with this retro valve thing. He's never been with a partner with one before and he's jumping at the chance to please his partner, especially if it'll help get him coherent so they can talk about doing this regularly.  
> \- Prowl being totally out of it, gone from logic and quiet, passionate lover to howling, writhing, hot and wet overload machine. Moaning Jazz's name over the comm without realise he's doing it also VERY MUCH A PLUS.
> 
> Do not want - noncon. Please, please oh god no noncon. Even if Prowl's out of it, he knows and trusts Jazz even if he just hacked Prowl's locked door in a fit of the worry, and Jazz should ASK before he touches, especially if he's never seen a retro array before. This might be a new mod to him, but The Jazzman has class, y'all.
> 
> Dirty talk is lovely, but please - Jazz being awed and delighted at this totally new way of sharing pleasure with his partner, not 'hey sexy filthy shareware'. Prowl might feel bad afterwards for being greedy and unconscionably demanding in his mind, but Jazz should see it as amazing and ask if maybe they can do it again sometime if he's very very good, pretty please Prowl? |)D


End file.
